


Something That Saves You

by LunaDeSangre



Series: Love is... [7]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Diverging Point, M/M, S1E08: Leaving the Station, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:05:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaDeSangre/pseuds/LunaDeSangre
Summary: Kelly angsts.A lot.But he also finally—finally—makes the right decision.





	Something That Saves You

When Kelly's thirty-five and Matt thirty-two, Hallie leaves Matt again.

Kelly's still reeling from loosing Andy, from nearly loosing Matt—Matt's friendship and Matt's life, pushing him away in grief and anger and _blame_ , fighting to get down to him in yet another inferno, heart in his throat (only to be the one _Matt_ is saving because Kelly's rushed too much to get a rope tied up there and that table fucking breaks: Matt would save the devil himself, so of course he saves Kelly, despite the nauseating fact that Kelly's been nothing but an absolute bastard to him since Andy's died), seeing him hold back a fucking fire blast with nothing but a door and his fucking body and having to leave him there _hoping_ Matt can get to the window in time, failing to catch him and seeing him dangle from the ladder by one arm, face determined and _terrified_ , seconds away from a sickening fall to the way-too-far pavement below—from painful death or devastatingly permanent impairment.

He has nightmares where Matt slips and falls and dies, where Matt falls and is so broken he wishes he was dead, where Matt misses the ladder completely and shatters and _splatters_ on the ground, where Matt's half-burnt and smoking and bleeding, flesh coming off when Kelly catches him, agonizing for weeks, hoping for nothing but death (while Kelly cries and cries and can't even hug him, never mind kiss him goodbye), where Matt's charred corpse is all that lands in his arms, where Matt doesn't get there at all and Kelly looks up to see him burn, like Matt must have seen Andy burn.

(He also has nightmares where he can't pull himself up and Matt doesn't let go and nobody catches them, and Matt falls back down there with Kelly and they both burn, and ones where he can't get down to Matt safely and ends up jumping down to him with no way back up and they both burn, but those aren't so bad, aren't as bad as the other ones because they both die together then, and neither of them is alone.)

Hallie leaves and she might come back (might not, but probably will, because it's sure as hell not the first time and probably not the last, and Matt accepts too much shit from her, accepts too much shit from anyone he feels cares about him, Kelly fucking included), and really, that's it.

Everyone has a breaking point, right? This is Kelly's.

Because that's too much shit and too many years, and if she's gone (again), too bad for her, too fucking bad for her this time, because Kelly's not letting Matt just sit on his ass and hopes she comes back _this_ time. He's done pretending to be a friend—he hasn't been a friend for months, and that's too many years and too many close calls and too much bullshit: if she can't love Matt more than Kelly does, love him like he fucking deserves to be loved (white picket fence and one point five kids and all things normal and everlasting), then she can't have him.

Because Kelly's been (hopelessly) in love with him since he was twenty-one and Matt still goddamn eighteen, and enough is enough. If normal can't make Matt happy, normal can get the fuck out: Kelly knows _he_ can make Matt happy.

At the very least, he knows he'll try harder than Hallie ever has anyway, because he's going to give his all, thank you: Matt doesn't deserve any less. But Matt's not a complicated guy when it comes to happiness; he just needs love and stability, and someone to be there for him even when he says he's fine and it's nothing ( _especially_ when he says he's fine and it's nothing), and Kelly's perfectly capable of that— _was_ doing most of that already, before he lost his mind over Andy and caused this…giant _rift_.

(Kelly also knows Matt enough to be aware that what he wants the most, besides someone to love him and not being alone, is to start his own family—to have a baby. _That_ , really, is the only point Kelly can't compete with Hallie in—in terms of biology, anyway, because he's got nothing whatsoever against having kids, and he certainly loves Matt enough that he'd gladly give him one, or five, if he could. But it's the twenty-first century and there's ways to work around this, adoption or surrogates or whatever Matt wants, so he's not too worried about the fact that he's male.)

And yeah, things between the two of them _have_ been getting better since then, but they're still nowhere near where they were before. Still nowhere near where Kelly wants them to be either. It's fixable though, Kelly just needs to get over himself—and he has to, if he doesn't want to loose Matt forever. Or loose this chance at least, because Kelly has no illusions Matt won't just accept everything from Hallie again if she comes back, or let himself be snatched up by less-than-fucking-subtle, ulterior-motives Dawson, and the thought of missing, or messing up this opportunity and somehow mending this fucked-up thing Kelly's festered between them to end up as nothing more than a just another friend, like the current situation is hinting at, is enough to make him want to punch something—until said something breaks, or his hand does, and he sure as hell doesn't need any extra broken parts right now.

So: he can't miss and he can't mess up. It'd be tougher if it was anyone else (but Kelly probably wouldn't bother all that much for anyone else, Shay excepted, and perhaps it wouldn't have gotten this bad with anyone else anyway, considering that saying about love and hate and all that), but Matt is Matt, and not only he's been making attempts all by himself to patch up the rift even when Kelly was at his worst, but Kelly's known for _years_ he forgives too easily, known for years exactly what his weaknesses are—has never really taken advantage of that even in those last few months and will feel like shit for doing so (but a lot less so _now_ than so many years ago, because Matt _has_ grown up, and he's come such a long way, and Kelly is still so, _so_ proud of him). If all goes well though, Kelly feeling guilty won't matter much anyway, because he'll spend the rest of their lives making up for it. Because he'll make Matt more goddamn happy that he's ever been, and that alone will be worth every damn thing Kelly has to put himself through.

So yeah, he knows he can make Matt forgive him, and forgive him _anything_ : the shit with Andy's death, that mess with his neck and all his goddamn lies, recently and over the years, all his _I'm fine_ and _It's nothing_ and all his brotherly concern that was never brotherly at all—and most importantly, he knows he can make Matt love him.

Because gender's never been a issue, not for him and, he's certain now, not for Matt: in retrospect, about a _decade and a half_ later, he knows he _would_ have either gotten punched in the face if it was, that first time, or Matt would have said something, eventually—would have let Kelly drift away over the years, at the very least, if he hadn't wanted him on some level. (Instead Kelly had gotten coffee, so many wide-eyed insecure smiles, and a seemingly never-ending series of skittish little glances as Matt unsurely second-guessed all of Kelly's mixed signals—until he met Hallie, and she hit on him, and Kelly...Kelly more than likely broke them _both_ by trying not to break Matt, looking right at him, fucking grinning like a good friend should and an almost-lover shouldn't, and saying: _Go for it_. Because of course Matt had, confused as he'd been with no points of comparison, faced with a man who seemingly didn't want him and a woman who obviously did. And of course he'd thrown his all into it to make it work, as desperate to be loved as he'd always been.)

He can make Matt love him because now more than _ever_ , he knows in some way, at least, Matt already does—or he wouldn't have tried so hard, over the years but especially since Andy's death, to keep Kelly as close as he could, to earn his forgiveness even for things he never had to be forgiven for. Maybe Kelly _did_ screw with his head anyway, even while trying not to, maybe him backing off came already too late—at this point he truly doesn't know, and he's sure it doesn't matter: he's perfectly happy spending the rest of life making amends for whatever he did, if it means he gets to be the one that makes Matt smile every damn day.

The thing is, though, he has no fucking idea how to go about it—about _any_ of it. Because, really, he's in the worst mess of his whole goddamn life, and it's _all_ his own doing. If he'd gone to the doctor earlier, his neck wouldn't be this bad, and Shay wouldn't be drifting away from him with those horribly disappointed eyes; if he hadn't blamed Matt for Andy's death—hadn't been such a loathsome _bastard_ to him, he wouldn't be struggling to talk to him, wouldn't run away from being alone in the same room as him in case Matt tried to ask him _what's wrong_ or _are you okay_ again.

It's four in the goddamn morning. He can't sleep, his neck is _killing_ him, and he's honestly so angry and tired of _everything_ he kind of just wants to cry like a child—but he knows that'd be utterly pointless, and besides, there's only one glass wall and a flimsy blind between him and the guys, and he can hear Mouch snoring. He doesn't fucking need the whole fucking firehouse asking why the hell their Squad Lieutenant is bawling like a fucking baby into his fucking pillow at four in the goddam fucking morning.

But he does need help.

Oh god, how much he needs help. There's absolutely no way he can claw himself out of this hellhole on his own. He's the one that sunk himself in, sure, but now he _really_ can't fucking get out, not without someone throwing him a line. And he can't ask Shay, because he's already asked way too much of her, because he's already seriously taken advantage of their friendship—of her patience and her sweet nature. He's got amends to make here, he can't ask her for help again.

He can't ask Matt either. Not after all Kelly's put him through, not after all this Voight shit Matt's had to deal with basically on his own, with Kelly being zero help, and especially not when he's planning to throw Matt's life upside down. Matt would help, no matter what, as long as Kelly asked; he'd help regardless of what it would cost _him_ , Kelly knows, and he'd do it for just about anyone too, not just for Kelly, because that's simply the way Matt is wired. But that—that'd feel too much like taking advantage, asking for his help pulling Kelly out of his own mess when Kelly is already planning to do just about anything to make Matt love him the way he wants him to. Matt deserves everything, and everything is not a fucking dead weight clinging to his ankle—it's not a guy that can't fucking get himself out of the fucking swamp he's dug himself into because he was a selfish idiot.

An utterly fucked-up selfish idiot, Kelly thinks to himself, _viciously_ , because really, he should just get punched square in the face, repeatedly: he's an _utterly fucked-up selfish idiot_ who needs help even if he doesn't fucking deserve it, because he's basically betrayed everyone counting on him by hiding his injury, not just Shay (and that's already something he doesn't deserve forgiveness for). He's betrayed everyone on his team and Matt's own by not _completely_ having their backs: if his arm had given out during a rescue, he could have gotten any of them killed. Any of the victims he was supposed to be rescuing, too. And he nearly did, didn't he? He nearly got Matt killed, unable to pull himself up in that inferno, with Matt refusing to let go even while getting pulled down, and he nearly got Matt killed that other time on the arial too, not catching him when he should have, barely able to help him hold on so Matt could swing and save himself, instead of Kelly saving him.

(If Matt had died, Kelly knows with absolute, clear certainty and probably way too much calm, if he'd fallen off that ladder like he does in Kelly's nightmares, Kelly would have killed himself. He doesn't know how—doesn't wonder how either, but he knows he wouldn't have hesitated: there is absolutely no point in living if Matt Casey is not breathing somewhere in this world. With Kelly or not doesn't matter at all in that respect: Matt just needs to be alive, or there is no point to _anything_.)

He can't even conceive asking any of his team for help, or Matt's, or Engine's while he's at it. Dawson? Dawson's got a few medical connections, and if he can't ask Shay she'd be the logical choice…but she obviously has a really bad crush on Matt, and Kelly has every intention in the world to steal him right from under her nose, now that Hallie's away again, and asking for her help while he's planning that would be just _shitty_. And Kelly's many things, but he'd like to think shitty's not one of them, even if selfish and idiotic apparently are. (There's also the fact that he can sympathize with the really bad crush, considering he's been hopelessly in love with Matt for more years than he cares to count.)

He could ask his Dad. Or Duffy. But that'd be—admitting defeat, or something. Admitting he can't take care of himself, like some kind of useless _man-child_. And Matt has no use for a useless man-child; Matt needs love and stability, and Kelly can do love, _boundlessly_ , but stability he needs to fix himself for, because it's impossible to lean on someone who can't hold himself upright, and he wants Matt to be able to lean on him again, not feel like Kelly is yet someone else Matt needs to take care of. It doesn't have anything to do with masculine pride either—or well, not much: Kelly knows himself enough to be aware it probably matters a little, but the main point is that he needs to be _whole_ for Matt, not just get his neck fixed (somehow), but find his balance again, and asking Duffy or his Dad for help _now_ , when he became a firefighter, joined Squad, and pulled himself up to the same rank as Matt all on his own, would seriously compromise that.

Which only leaves the Chief. It's fitting: Boden is really the only person Kelly needs to own up to, for hiding his injury and the whole subsequent mess.

Frankly, Kelly's terrified.

Not just that his broken neck, even with the surgery, might cost him his job, but that his lies might too—and of what Boden is going to _say_ , because very few things are worse than disappointing someone you respect, someone who trusted you with the lives of a large number of people ultimately all in his command. Someone who trusted you to know your own limits, and to behave accordingly, because there's far more lives at stake than just your own.

But if he doesn't do it for himself, doesn't do it for Shay, then he has to do it for Matt. Because Matt deserves _everything_ , deserves Kelly's _best_ , and Kelly's best is not being a fucking _coward_. Because, really, Kelly would walk through a fire for just about anybody: it's his job, it's easy. But for Matt? For Matt, he'd tackle a mountain of unnecessary, non-life-threatening paperwork. For Matt, he'd face Chief Boden and confess all his goddamn mistakes. (Face the metaphorical dragon—he thinks with an exhausted, rather-unhinged giggle that's very nearly a sob—which probably makes Matt his princess, even if Matt is most definitely not a girl and doesn't need Kelly for anything, since he always somehow manages to rescue himself out of every tough situation he gets tangled into.)

Own up to everything, grovel at Shay's feet, get that fucking surgery, maybe apply for Arson if he can't go back to active duty, or possibly for an instructor job at the Academy if he's fit enough: _that's_ Kelly's best, right now, and Matt's worth all that. (And more, but more Kelly will figure out later.) And after that call on the railway, he needs to check in on Mills too, even though he knows Matt doubtlessly will. (With how determinedly the kid's been obviously set on Squad from the get-go, Kelly feels somewhat responsible of him as well, Truck Candidate or no—would have tried to check up on him even without Boden telling both him and Matt to keep an eye on him earlier: Kelly still remembers his first mangled victim far too well to not feel for the kid.)

He'll…he'll miss Squad, if he can never go back, and for the whole time it'll take him to get cleared, if getting cleared's even a possibility at all. Squad's all he ever wanted to do with his life, it's all he's ever been aiming for. But truthfully, it's not actually all Kelly has: he's got Matt, too (will have Matt, but already does even now, even this little), and at the end of the day, he knows he loves Matt far more than he loves Squad. (Really, it's a complete no-brainer there.)

Even if it doesn't seem particularly healthy to mentally make Matt his lifeline—no matter that it's precisely what Matt has always seemed to be since Kelly's kissed him that first time. Maybe even since Kelly's _met_ him—that blond kid with the huge blue eyes standing lost and confused in the face of Andy's enthusiastic friendly babble, who, in retrospect, made Kelly want to be a better person from the start.

And it's way, way past time for him to _be_ that better person. _Really_ do that. He's lied to Boden's face just a few hours ago. Said he was _fine_. That his arm was just a tweak. A _tweak_. It'd be laughable if it wasn't so pathetic. And this, after every-fucking-body must have seen and heard him wince—and _whimper_ —on the ladder, seen him nearly drop that guy (not helped in the least by Hadley coming to supposedly have his back on Boden's order, at the speed of a fucking _snail_. But Kelly shouldn't have _needed_ any help at all— _wouldn't_ have if he hadn't been such a fucking moron and gone to the doctor _before_ ).

Every-fucking-body but Matt, who must surely have heard by now anyway, but hasn't dared approach him about it yet, when a year ago he wouldn't have hesitated, would have confronted Kelly head-on, dragged him to the doctor himself, even—him and Andy both.

(Andy, who was _Matt's_ best friend too, and who'd be _horrified_ if he could see how Kelly's been with Matt—with Andy's all-but-adopted little brother, with the one person in the universe Andy _knew_ Kelly's always loved more than anyone and anything in the world. _He'd_ give Kelly those well-deserved punches across the face, alright—for the way Kelly's treated Matt if nothing else. Would tell him if he doesn't get his shit together, he's not even worthy of licking the ground Matt walks on, or something equally blunt and weirdly descriptive. And he'd be completely _right_.)

 _Fuck_ , it feels like his whole right arm is throbbing in time with his pulse, from his neck through his shoulder and all the way to his fingertips.

He gives up on sleep. Drags himself to the showers, takes a chair in there with him again, painfully strips, collapses on it, turns the water as hot as he can stand it—and then a bit more, and a bit more again, because it barely helps. What would help is more of Anna's magic pills…

The pills he's begged her for, earlier today (well, yesterday now). The pills he was...prostituting himself for. The pills that nearly ended his career not that long ago—that _would_ have ended it, if Shay hadn't saved his ass at the last minute, without him asking and without her hoping—he'd seen it in her face, the sad disappointment. It had made him feel two feet tall and completely worthless—it still does at just the memory. But even that, even her anger afterwards, the disgruntled frostiness she's been projecting at him since, it hasn't been enough to push him into fixing himself, hasn't it?

No, what does the trick is hearing that Matt is single again.

He snorts in disgusted laughter (the sound that comes out is far more like a choked sob than anything else): if _that's_ not pitifully lovesick, he doesn't know what is.

Enough, he tells himself. Enough. No more fucking thinking. In the morning—in a few hours, after shift, he'll talk to Boden. Start making things as right as he possibly can. Schedule an actual appointment. Buy Shay mint chocolate chips ice-cream and grovel. Figure out how to offer Matt his heart on a silver platter—figuratively speaking of course, though that's sure what it feels like right now.

 _Enough_. If he needs to be whole, he needs to be sane, and for that, he _has_ to stop thinking—the only thing he needs to concentrate on right now is the need to fucking breathe. Deeper. _Slower_. Again. And _again_.

(How pathetic is it, that the image that makes him feel centered has _always_ been Matt's smile? That so rare, wide shiny one—the one that makes the whole world seem _right_ , somehow, despite absolutely anything else. The one that Kelly adores so much—the one that would make him do anything and _everything_ just to see it again.)

He calms down, gradually, knotted nerves loosening tiny little bit by tiny little bit, although it still hurts too fucking much—his heart, too, even if _that's_ not physical. But he's doing his best—will continue to do his best, now. For Matt.

(And if he cries a little there, silently, under the stream of burning water, over his broken body and his aching heart, the shreds of his life and his complete unworthiness, well, it's not like anyone can see. And anyway, it's probably better than choking down everything all the fucking time.)


End file.
